


Paint Me a Sunset

by nonbinaryfelix (coldwarqueer)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 18:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7543657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldwarqueer/pseuds/nonbinaryfelix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felix dragged his fingers down Locus’ back, like an act of completion. The kisses along his shoulder blades increased and Locus felt the paint drying over his skin with every wayward breath Felix huffed. His skin tingled.<br/>_____</p>
<p>felix uses locus as a canvas</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint Me a Sunset

It tickled.

Locus lay on his stomach, motionless as the deft, wet fingers stroked the rippling muscles of his back. A pleasant growl escaped him as Felix’s fingers stroked the contours of his torso, painting a mural on his skin.

Literally.

Felix dipped his fingers into the paint like he were stroking an old lover; he brushed Locus’ back with alternating tender touches and hard prodding. They didn’t talk. Locus enjoyed the touching, the intimacy of art being stroked into his back.

And the silence.

Felix was quiet as he painted, his artistry creating a look of concentration on his face. His touch was gentle along Locus’ lower back, the chilled paint tightening on his flesh. Locus only gasped when he felt Felix’s hot lips on his shoulder. Felix pushed into his neck, Locus’ pulse on his lips.

Locus purred, his taut muscles raising. He didn’t speak, though he wanted to thank Felix for his art, for his affection. There was silence between them. Understanding and appreciation.

Felix dragged his fingers down Locus’ back, like an act of completion. The kisses along his shoulder blades increased and Locus felt the paint drying over his skin with every wayward breath Felix huffed. His skin tingled.

When it dried, and Felix laid atop him, Locus rumbled like a content cat. The heat between them was a comfort, soothing and gentle. Anything Felix had to offer that was tender was rare, but desired.

Felix kissed him again. Locus sighed heavily, exhaling out his stress and his worries with it. Felix’s weight was all he needed. The bed dipped as His partner shifted, his hands sliding over the clotting paint.

The paint was tight over his skin, the mural blending with the darks of his flesh, and he felt Felix's lips on the art draped over his form. They laid like that until the paint was cracking and Felix was picking at the edges of his own creation. Locus rolled them over, until he could take Felix to the bathroom with him, the hot water turned on first thing.

They kissed under the spray of the water. Felix worked his hands over Locus' back, kneading at the paint and dragging his nails down his skin. He washed away the built up paint from his fingernails as they broke the kiss, breath mixing and touching.

Felix created the art on him, it was only fitting for him to wash it away.

When the paint washed against the drain and the water was turning lukewarm, Locus wrapped his arms around Felix. He tilted his head down, until he rested his forehead against his partner's. A soft exhale touched Felix's lips, and Locus closed his eyes.

There was something so calming about being made a mess, and then made clean all by the same hands. Locus kissed the back of Felix's hand before pressing it to his face. He said nothing, only looked at Felix like he were the sun.

They kissed, slow and gentle, lips barely touching, until Felix dug his claws into Locus' arms. Felix grew hungry and deep, and the kisses reflected it. Locus indulged him.

Their fingers laced together, locked, pressed to the wall of the shower. Locus held Felix there, enjoying the stillness. A deep breath shuddered through them, and Felix’s legs came off the shower floor. They nestled along Locus’ hips, Felix’s heels digging in like ice.

There was no talking as they fumbled for something like lube, didn't ask what the consequences might be. They fit together, ragged breaths turning into gasps. The water was going cold.

In the end they slipped and laughed, the calm, sensual mood turning light. Felix took them out of the cold shower, dried by towels and robes, and pulled Locus to bed. He didn't try to finish what they had started, instead curling around his partner, nose nestled between his shoulder blades. He exhaled, and Locus heard the quiet words touch his ears,

“A perfect canvas.”


End file.
